Gun Powder and Maps
by Leanne Quinzel
Summary: The female heroine came from Vault 101, but eventually, everyone ends up in New Vegas. And what a surprise New Vegas has in store. Courier/Mr. House
1. Summary

**Gun Powder and Maps - Prologue**

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><p>Completely decimated by the Great War, America stood in broken buildings and lost hopes. There were the few who believed in the good of man and that their nation would be restored to its former glory, but most did not, fending for themselves, lending to the mass chaos and dismemberment of society.<p>

In the Washington D.C. tri-state area stood one vault, left untouched and unopened; Vault 101. Everyone was born and everyone died in the vault. Or so it seemed.

Out of the vault came a girl, searching for her father in the capital wasteland. And out of her, emerged a hero to humanity. The Lone Wanderer.

Rumors had spread to the east of a dazzling city in the west, untouched by nuclear warheads. And it was so that she traveled there, running on hopes and dreams as she had when she emerged from the underground vault. Her catalyst was a shot to the head.


	2. Chapter 1  Current Day's Haze

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 1 – Current Day's Haze**

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><p>Security had been something that the Wastelands had always lacked. However, for certain people, safety was of a lesser concern.<p>

The courier was one of those people. She was a young woman of strong build, her body firmly packed with muscle and fat, giving her a slightly carved and curved body. Her face was pleasant with two, pink-colored scars on the side of her skull. Green eyes surveyed anyone she passed, their large size lending her a certain quality that people could not help but notice, whether good or bad.

She was always covered in heavy armor that masked her from the world, but few and far between, she would wear recon armor with a boomer's cap and rebreather, her curly auburn hairy dangling down from underneath. The even rarer moments came when she wore a dress with heels. That only occurred in New Vegas.

And Mr. House was one of the few who saw all three. She had been his faithful lieutenant through it all, the recovery of the platinum chip, the ousting and gaining of allies, and the final takeover of Hoover Dam. She basically secured his authority in the Mojave, and the courier was sure to never let him forget it.

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><p>Once more courier six stood in front of the green glow from House's telescreen, her suave tone flowing into his auditory sensors. "Is there anything you wish of me today?" "Not today Brooke. I will beckon you if something arises." With a nod of her head she left. The securitrons turned towards her as she walked away and House focused on her intently until she left through the penthouse elevator.<p>

"I like what I see…" The male hooker whispered to Brooke as she reclined against the velvet seat in her private room. She was decked in her nude colored pumps which glistened in the sterile lights. A rose lace dress lay across the mattress on the other side of the room leaving her to bear her flesh colored brassiere and garters to her companion. A shiver ran down her spine as the prostitute moved a hand over her stomach, and she spread out her arms upon the seat. As Brooke leaned back she groaned, "Take the pain away, Johnny" The handsome man dove for her neck, nestling it and sucking upon it as he fondled her. The courier fell into ecstasy as her favorite courtesan dispelled her current thoughts.

House's gaze followed her fingers clutching Johnny's back and he turned the connection to the camera off in a heartbeat. Oh, how many times he had watched her walk into the Gomorrah, converse with the Omerta's and settle into her escapades. It was a regular thing, yet each time it occurred, the overseer of New Vegas became disgusted, severing the connection and hiding himself away in his many calculations.

That night she was back in the Lucky 38 penthouse, buried in House's library. "Don't kid yourself with those books, Brooke. You can't read," Came the overseer's mocking voice. It was a joke made countless times and the courier waved him off. She had been raised in Vault 101. Of course she could read.

For the umpteenth time she was in the maroon leather chair underneath the heated floor lamp, reading her favorite book, Orwell's _1984_. She was nearing the end of the book and one solemn tear fell from her eye. The text wasn't quite finished, but the known ending was overwhelming. "Why do you relish in that book?" came the familiar voice of her superior. She put down the book and stared at the always smirking face of Pre-War Mr. House on the small screen upon the nearest wall. "It always reminds me of how mankind can be so cruel and so loving. Orwell knew what he was talking about. So few people can say they do the same." House's silence came as a quiet contemplation of her answer and he lingered for a moment before scanning the various Vegas connections.

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><p>"Raul, I need you to read this. You've gotta learn how to fix cars," Brooke said as she stood in front of a seated mechanic. His denim jumper was dirtied but still intact with a dancing Latino bearing a traffic cone on his head stitched onto the back. On his shoulders sat a skeletal head with rotting flesh, but inquisitive brown eyes. "I swear to God you are just like that damned Cuddles," the old ghoul grumbled in a very Mexican accent, reminiscing on a certain mutant who wanted him to fix a car for him. She grinned and added, "I brought you a manual this time. And it's even for this type of car."<p>

Raul followed the space suit decked courier onto the irradiated Black Mountain. In front of him stood a gleaming, sky blue vehicle, gorgeous by wasteland standards despite the chipped paint and broken lights. The handyman scratched his neck and chuckled at the two securitrons that had dragged it to his base of operations. "Well, what's wrong with it, boss?" She looked dumbfounded and said in a low voice, "I'm not sure… everything is there. I figured your mechanical aptitude could mull it over."

Reluctantly he popped the hood and stared at the filthy engine with his hands on his hips. "Mi dio…" cracked his throat.

Suddenly one of the securitron's screens flickered and the face of House appeared. "Brooke, I'm working on a new project. I need components and you need to make finding them your number one priority." Raul and Brooke stared at him and she whispered to her companion, "Thanks again… it may be a while before I'm back." Raul saluted her and Brooke walked back slowly down the mountain with the robots abreast. Her voice spoke up, "This has nothing to do with the moon settlement does it? Because the very thought right now is impractical." House chuckled and then responded gravely, "No that is business in development. This one I have just undertaken."  
>"May I know what I'm risking my neck for?"<br>"No."  
>"What the hell, why not?"<br>"It is too hard to explain, but don't worry. All will be revealed soon."

The courier scoffed as she listened intently to what she was required to find for his pet project. No matter the subject matter, she had grown faithful to House and would do as he asked…or rather demanded.

She had come to believe that he was Humanity's last hope.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are located on my profile page. I try to update often. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 2  Restitution

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 2 - Restitution**

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><p>Once again, the courier's plasma rifle buzzed as she stared upon the ragged gang member's in front of her, their blood seeping into the cracks of the crumbling road. She adjusted her rebreather and sighed. Killing was not a love of hers. But it was a necessity. She rummaged through their belts and pockets, grabbing half empty bottles of water and spare microfusion cells. These were the staples of wasteland life and were not meant to be left behind.<p>

Back into vault 11 she delved, shaking the memories from her mind of when she was there last. Boone and ED-E had accompanied her into the steel underground fortress on that journey. With five dead bodies littering the entrance, a macabre trip had been insured for the three.

With any threat long gone from the rusted interior, Brooke ventured deep underneath the silent Mojave Hills. ED-E buzzed along beside her, the ever constant companion. The machine was a hovering, spherical robot with antennae protruding from its exterior making it thusly resemble the USSR satellite, Sputnik. Every few seconds an occasional beep or hum would interrupt the silence between the two, but the quiet always returned.

They walked down the steps of the overseer's office and walked down the tunnel filled with blinding light below. "Go towards the light, Martyr," had been the last words that echoed through that tunnel.

Human and robot arrived at the end of the walkway into what appeared to be a projection room. Robots littered both sides of the room, bullets and cells scattered across the floor. Brooke scavenged all of the materials she could from the metal beasts as ED-E scanned them all methodically. It was a habit of his.

Those very robots scattered upon the floor had tried to kill the courier on her last sojourn to the area, thinking she was the supposed "sacrificial overseer" for the Vault 11 community. Her booted foot smashed the head of an unsuspecting protectron in malice. Brooke scoffed at her work and walked towards the only door in the vicinity, entering the room it led to with ED-E in tow.

Within the room stood the evil monster of Vault 11 that had demanded yearly sacrifices, otherwise the "brains" of Vault 11; the main frame computer. Keys clicked as Brooke's fingers crossed over the keyboard with a fine-tuned precision. Suddenly a computerized voice erupted, "Congratulations citizens of Vault 11. Contrary to what rumors you have heard, you will not all be-" The clash of a fire axe made the voice whir down and Brooke took a deep breath, drawing the axe back for a second swing and beating it into the shining metal and glistening plastic. She ripped away the outer shell to reveal the inner workings, a lovely tangle of multi-colored wires and boards upon boards of circuitry.

Mr. House's ownership and development of RobCo. had most likely developed this technological abomination. The thought made the courier laugh as she began to dislodge the various memory boards and system installments House had requested of her. ED-E pleasantly beeped as Brooke read the schematics, showing where and what she needed in the contraption, aloud to herself while continuing to grab green glistening panels with etched coppery currents running on their surfaces.

The innards of a computer, let alone a mass computer interface, were not Brooke's strong suit. She could hack into a system with no effort at all, but again, it was a necessity. Building computers was a past time she did not relish in.

With her prizes wrapped and safe inside her duffle bag, she left. Upon exiting the gear-shaped door leading to the underground world, her hands rested on her hips and oxygen filled her lungs until they could hold no more. "Life can be good ED-E. And right now it is wonderful." The robot swiveled back and forth and the two set off for Good Springs to pay a visit to Doc Mitchell.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are located on my profile page. I try to update often. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 3  Home on the Range

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 3 – Home on the Range**

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><p>"I hope this is a visit that doesn't require any patching up," the old, graying Doc Mitchell chuckled as Brooke settled into his raggedy couch. So many months ago the doctor had saved her from death's grip, and she made it a point to let him know she was grateful for it. Brooke smiled back and retorted, "Not this time around. Though a few supplies would help... But we can get to that later. I wanted to stop for some of your hot tea."<br>"And you know it's always abundant."  
>"I do, I do…"<p>

The doctor exited as Brooke shed her huge metal helmet. He returned with a large, tarnished tray complete with chipped china and a lackluster coffee pot. The sweet, soothing smell of the rare chamomile made the broken wares forgivable.

Doc Mitchell sipped from his cup and asked, "How is the old wizard within his tower doing lately? Rumors have been spreading about a totalitarian regime coming to New Vegas and the Mojave." ED-E darted around the room, focusing on the two momentarily, and then hovering away again as Brooke shook her head. "No, his sights are more on a Republic. Complete rule would make the masses rebellious, and democracy would turn chaotic since most of the population is either running on booze or chems. He wants to be 'Big Brother' without being 'Big Brother'. If that makes any sense." Her friend nodded his head in understanding, mulling over the Mojave's political future. The thoughts made him groan.

"Don't think too hard, Doc. I've done the same thing countless times, and thinking gets you nowhere except closer to a headache," the courier smirked as she crossed her legs. A chuckle left the elder's graying mustache and he sank into his chair, "What're you up to now a days?"  
>"Running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You?"<br>"Sounds more interesting than my life. It's always just an influx of Gecko bites. The little bastards never tire of chewing off your arm."

Suddenly ED-E's war music began to play as his laser weapons hummed to the ready. "What the hell-" escaped Brooke's lips when a flap of wings filled her ears, followed by the sound of a laser pistol going off. A noise like sand falling upon the floor was all that ended the situation and the two humans stared at ED-E's craftsmanship. A pile of disintegrated insect lay upon the nearby rug, bits of mantis nymph wing crumbled near the wall.

Brooke leapt from her seat, "Oh ED-E, not on the carpet! Ugh…." She dragged the rug outside and shook it out, the glowing soot falling into the brown grass. She returned, carefully placing the mat where it had been and apologized to Doc Mitchell. He waved a hand at the courier, "No trouble. One less creature to cause another wound I have to fix."

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><p>A while later, Brooke reclined upon the couch, letting her cup of warm tea rest upon her chest. The heat and the aroma wafted towards her face, and she let her body melt into the stained cushions. Doc Mitchell was readying himself for his afternoon nap and invited Brooke to do the same if she pleased. She accepted readily.<p>

Her robot guardian was landed on the nearby chair. His antennae folded inwards and his mechanical whirs became a soft purr. Brooke placed her cup aside on the coffee table and let her eyes droop until her body fell into the sleep it constantly craved.

A couple of hours later the courier stirred from her slumber and wearily packed her travel bag. The Mojave dragged her down and every so often she wished she was somewhere else. Upon the coffee table she left a small bag of bottle caps and a note thanking the doctor for the supplies.

The two companions left Goodsprings and traveled until they came upon the former NCR Sharecropper farms. A drink from the spicket quenched the wanderers thirst and Brooke grabbed a few ears of corn on her way through. She settled upon the long rusty pipeline, savoring the fresh corn as the sun beat down on her T-45d Power Armor.

"ED-E, what have we done to get caught in this mess? Hm?" she asked while picking the kernels out of her gums. The robot continued to hover without answering. She shook her head. "Look at me… why do I bother talking to you?" ED-E seemed to stare at her and she apologized, "Sorry…You have been with me through a huge portion of my life… And I can't thank you enough. Ignore my complaints."

Upon the horizon Brooke spotted a long caravan train. Her heart began to race and she sprung to her feet, running after the merchants in hot pursuit of a potential vendor.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are located on my profile page. I try to update often. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	5. Chapter 4  Roses are Red

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 4 – Roses are Red**

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><p>The courier's eyes opened wide in surprise as she approached the caravan, "What the hell, Cass? Back caravanning? The very thought made you drink!" The red-head in front of Brooke laughed and replied, "I've always thrived on my whiskey! You'd never figure it, but Alice McLafferty died. Probably murdered with all the fucking shit she did. God awful bitch. The Crimson's were lost without her, so I offered my 'skills' to them, and now I'm rolling in the caps. Anyways, how have you been?" Brooke laughed under her breath, "Trying to keep sane. I'm on constant treks across this God forsaken place."<br>"The old prick's still using you, huh? Tell him to fuck off and get a real pack mule."  
>"The House always wins, Cass."<p>

The caravaneer nodded her head and put her pale hands on her hips. She let a sigh slip from her lips as she stared up at the sun. "So what made you run after my train of dickheads?" The courier finally remembered what she wanted and replied, "I need ALL of the scrap metal you have… along with your sensor modules and any spare electronics. I don't care if I have to crawl back to New Vegas with the load on my back. I need em'." Cass smiled and yelled to her boys to gather up all their wares. The Brahmin were unpacked and one by one, tanned, built men in torn clothing dispersed the scrap into a gigantic pile coated in rust. The courier looked at the mounting hill and thought to herself, "Magnificent."

Cass smiled at Brooke and whispered, "My guys are handsome enough, but you should see them when you're drunk. They are absolutely delectable and completely fuckable." A wink crossed her freckled face and Brooke smirked. She crossed her arms as a thought ran through her mind of Cass basking in her whiskey and men.

Returning from her thoughts, the wanderer asked her old companion, "How much for this junk?" "Free," came the answer.  
>"No."<br>"Yes."  
>"Dammit, Cass."<br>"Well fuck you too."

The two were never going to reach a compromise and Brooke gave in. She withdrew an old ratted duffle bag from ED-E's chassis and stuffed everything she had gained into it. The poor sack was pushed to its limits and heaved upon her stiff back.

"Well don't rush off just yet. We're setting up camp soon. I could use a friendly face," Cass pleaded. Brooke looked at ED-E as if expecting a reaction and said, "Sure. We're not exactly running on a tight schedule."

Brooke had dressed into her leather armor and reclined on a log next to Cass, who at the moment was loosening her hair until it fell upon her shoulders in bent waves. The light from the fire flickered across their faces as the weary travelers sat with half heated cans of baked beans and ripped boxes of potato crisps. The courier savored her purified water as Cass swished her amber whiskey against the sides of the dusty bottle. ED-E drifted around the camp on constant alert, clicking and chirping every few minutes.

Cass gave a weak cough and spoke up, "I tell ya'. This group of dicks is the most boring I've ever been with. I usually let them relish in their dirty jokes, but don't expect a conversation." "How do you survive? I mean, at least I have ED-E to talk to," Brooke retorted. Cass cocked an eyebrow. "Wow… Point proven. No wonder you're gradually going nuts. Girl you need to take a break."  
>"Breaks are for pussies."<br>"Well you may not be one but you have one. Take a break."  
>"Where at? Jacobstown resort?"<p>

Cass shook her head in disappointment and scoffed, "Oh my God, you always look at the pissy side of everything. I'm surprised you managed to start in the Capital Wasteland and end up here." Brooke nodded her head. It was an amazement to her too. Vaulties were supposed to die on contact outside of their comfy underground homes.

Cass leapt from the log and gave a huge stretch with a long yawn, "Think about what I said. Living is a full time job within its self. Old' Mighty House can get his rocket-launcher minions to wipe his ass. Night." She walked off to one of the tents, kicking dirt at the group of men on the other side of the fire, and finally retired to her ratted bed roll.

For a few moments longer the courier rested her head on her fists and stared into the campfire. She took one last bite of a potato crisp, gulped down the finishing drops of her water, and left for sleep.

Early in the morning the camp was dismantled and the Brahmin were packed and mooing, their double heads lazily swinging in the cool air. Cass lovingly hugged Brooke, "Go drag yourself back to your master, ya' whore," Cass yelled as her friend began to head for New Vegas and she herself headed to the Gun Runner's factory. Brooke laughed. "I'll drop in to say hi sometime at the fort. I realize you're on a tight schedule so I'll see ya' round, Cass." ED-E buzzed along as the courier walked into the setting sun, hurrying to reach her destination before dark.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are located on my profile page. I try to update often. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 5 Federations

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 5 - Federations**

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><p>Brooke and ED-E arrived at the metal gates leading to Freeside where the sun, barely peaking above the horizon, cast an assortment of colors upon the heavens. The courier stared up, noticing a banner she had never seen before flapping softly in the frigid, morning winds. It had three horizontal stripes, the inner red, the top white, and the bottom black. "What is going on?" was the only thought reeling through her mind.<p>

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><p>The large, coarse sack dropped to the floor from the courier's shoulder with a thunderous clatter in front of Mr. House's large computer screen. His monitor flickered on as Brooke discarded her power armor helmet. House groaned, "I will terminate you in a heartbeat if you've broken anything." Brooke rolled her eyes and exclaimed, "It's ALL broken. That's why it's scrapped and spare parts!"<br>"The better the condition the easier to work with."  
>"If you would tell me what you were working on, I'd be able to determine whether I could kick this junk around or not."<br>"I'm not going to enlighten you."

The courier scoffed under her breath at his declaration. "There are flags fluttering around the walls and I want to know what they are. On second thought, I demand you tell me right now!" She yelled. House calmly responded, "You can't demand anything of me." Brooke stood upright, staring directly into his digitalized eyes. Although she wanted to believe she could, House was correct. She couldn't demand anything of him.

House's voice broke the silence. "You have just been introduced to the Mojave Democratic-Republic." Disbelief filled Brooke's face, and she said, "Do you honestly expect to run your 'Republic' democratically? Is this some kind of joke?"  
>"The Democratic adjective is for show. And for that matter, so is republic. But Mojave is quite true. The NCR has willingly surrendered to me, and to my advantage (and theirs) I have used their so called 'structure' to build upon."<br>"Basically you're running the NCR but with a new label?"  
>"Precisely."<br>"You're insane…" timidly escaped Brooke's lips. Again there was silence.

House's screen flickered again and he started up, "The NCR was a rag-tag copy of what Pre-War America used in its Checks and Balances system. There is a legislative branch, an executive branch, and, in this case, a hardly noticeable judicial branch. All of these post-apocalyptic 'presidents' the NCR has had have been soft shelled creatures, allowing the Mojave to step upon their necks. Kimball's over extension of the NCR in an attempt to gain more territory has made their neck brittle and ready for the stomping. I guess you could say I was the final kick to the head."

He chuckled under his breath and Brooke rolled her eyes. She spoke up,"Your citizens are going to revolt."  
>"I have robots with rocket launchers."<p>

With a shake of her head, the courier left the room and went to the cocktail lounge.

As the supposed revolving room stood still over-looking all of New Vegas, Brooke broke the serenity by strolling back and forth, chewing upon the tip of one of her fingers. A computer terminal by the elevator flushed with House's face and he boomed, "You have no faith in me do you?"  
>"I didn't say that."<br>"That's how you feel."  
>"So what if it is or if it is not, I feel that if the NCR couldn't endure this wasteland, how could the MDR?"<p>

Brooke collapsed into a bright red, leather lounger. Her fingers automatically started to knead her temples. One of the nearby securitrons handed her a bottle of purified water and she guzzled it down as quick as she could. She handed it back the drained plastic container mumbling under her breath, "I can never escape from you." House chuckled, "Do you not want to be around me? Oh how I lament your emotions towards me. I'm such an agreeable soul."  
>"Mr. House, you are not agreeable. You terrify people into obeying you."<br>"But I give them mercy. Doesn't sparing their lives make me agreeable?"  
>"No."<br>"What a pity… I thought it did."

For a few minutes, Brooke reclined in the chair and stared out the window as the inner mechanisms of the nearby securitron hummed. The sky was void of clouds, with the occasional specks of irradiated crows flying past. New Vegas seemed featureless during the day without its array of neon lights. Michelangelo made it all possible, and what a sight he had fashioned. Even from the darkest reaches of the desert, there was always a glow on the horizon from House's empire.

Brooke leapt from her chair and walked hurriedly to the elevator. "Victor, take me down to the casino," she barked to the near-by robot who wore the constant expression of an ebullient cowboy. His southern accent responded, "Casino floor, coming up!" House flickered back onto the nearby monitor and spoke up, "There's something else I need you to work on." "Not right now," came her retort.

"Not right now? Where are you going?," he asked with a boiling anger.

She stepped into the awaiting elevator and replied, "I'm going to go see an old friend."

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are on my profile page. I try to update them frequently. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	7. Chapter 6 Let's Get the Ball Rolling

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 6 – Let's Get the Ball Rolling**

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><p>The courier stood solemnly in front of Jacobstown for the first time in a long time, alone. There was no ED-E, no companions, no one. Just her.<p>

A large, green, super mutant strode slowly across the snow covered grass as he involuntarily grimaced. He waved at Brooke as she approached and seemed to smile as best as he could at her. "How are things going, Marcus?" She asked quietly. He gave a snort and responded in a low growl, "Things have been going just fine. Just snow, and the occasional scum-ball mercenaries that wander up here, nothing else." Brooke smiled. "That's good… that's good. "

The vault dweller took a deep breath when Marcus spoke up, "I think someone would like to see you though." She perked up and nodded. Brooke walked away from the mutant and up towards the cabin-like lodge that spread across the cold summit. Butterflies began to fill her stomach and she entered the building, the heavy wooden door creaking as it opened and closed.

"Hey Dr. Henry, how is he doing?" She asked timidly from the door-way to the make-shift clinic. The graying man turned around and flashed a large smile. "Everything is just fine my dear girl! Calamity is actually out with him right now, so they should be back any moment." A wave of relief flushed over the courier. Suddenly a loud bark erupted from behind the vault dweller, making her jump.

She turned around to see the red-haired ghoul walking with a very jolly cyber dog next to her. Brooke raised her brow and asked, "Rex?" The dog cocked its head to the side with a quizzical whimper. "Dogmeat!" She laughed and the dog ran up to her, wagging his tail and jumping up to lick her on the face. Brooke giggled as she scratched behind the dog's ears and cooed at him. It hadn't been awfully long ago since Dogmeat had sustained some major injuries at Hoover Dam, causing him to be rushed to Dr. Henry.

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><p>The securiton House had sent along rolled across the crumbling walkway above Hoover Dam, trailing behind Brooke, Dogmeat, and Brooke's friend Boone. Caesar's legion soldiers and legionaries came at the group with spears and charged lances, along with a menagerie of power fists and rebar swords. The enemies dropped like flies as rockets and snipes and laser charges pounded into them. Those that fell but didn't die were quickly taken over by bites to the neck and the ripping of skin from a canine offender.<p>

With the path clear, they trudged down into the bowels of the dam, on a mission to unleash a robotic storm.

As they went deeper and deeper, Boone spoke up slowly, "You're going to kill whoever is down there aren't you?" Brooke felt his eyes upon her and turned to meet them as she said, "Yes, Boone, I am. I'm going to do what needs to be done."  
>"I don't like it."<br>"I know you don't."

Only one other time had Boone expressed his dislike of Brooke's actions, and that was letting Vulpes Inculta live. However she had already explained how things were going to happen. He just came along to save her from a few legion bitches.

Two NCR heavy troopers stood guard in front of the control room, one with a flame thrower, the other with a shotgun. Brooke stood in front of the two as the trooper with the shotgun barked, "This area is off limits." She continued to stand there. "I said this area is off limits!" He shouted, but right as he finished his last word, Brooke had flung the rifle from off her back and unloaded a clip into his helmet. The Securitron followed up and sent rocket after rocket upon the one massacring them with flames and the guardians of the computers died. "Come here, Dogmeat" Brooke said as the dog ran to her. She knelt down and scratched behind his ears, "Good boy for staying!" She rose up and entered the large room, rushing to the computer and installing the override chip.

House flickered onto the screen, "I knew you would make it. Resourceful, as always."

Once all of House's requirements had been met, Brooke and her crew headed to the surface in order to meet the Robotic army they had just unleashed. Hordes of NCR, Legion, and Securitrons battled upon the surface as Brooke guided her posse through the debris and bodies. Their guns became warm with use as enemies fell to their ammunition. The lone wanderer snaked her way towards the Legion camp with Dogmeat at her side, shots flying by her.

Upon passing a downed chunk of concrete, a Legion warrior jumped from behind it, his laser pike raised above his head, ready to slice into the Courier. She spun in fear, raising her laser rifle as it whirred to charge when Dogmeat leapt at the man. The rifle unloaded into the legionaries' chest as the pike drove into the dog's side, making him convulse as the wound began to slowly bleed.

The world halted as Brooke stared down at her butchered companion. The fighting drowned away into muffled yells and shots, her heart beat the only thing she could hear. She fell onto her knees, and from within the very depths of her soul emerged a blood-curdling scream. Boone momentarily stopped as he stared behind himself. He had never heard the lone wanderer scream in such a way. Even within himself it provoked an immense emotion of fear and pain that made him sick to his stomach.

Brooke grabbed the pike and wrenched it out of her companion, flinging it far away from herself, and proceeded to pick up Dogmeat in her arms. She yelled at the Securitron and its default soldier face stared at her blankly. Her arms slightly trembled as she held out the limp dog and said, "Take him to Doctor Henry." The robot did nothing upon her request and she spat out with mounting force, "HOUSE! Take The GODDAMN Dog To DOCTOR HENRY!"

She wasn't yelling at the robot any longer. She was yelling at Mr. House… and he heard. The Securitron's arms took the dog and wheeled away at a speed Brooke had never seen before. An unlocked fury had been released and she was practically running towards the Legate's camp, Boone struggling to keep up.

With the King's (and Rex's) consent, Dogmeat was allowed to live in Rex's cyber body in order to stay alive. Dr. Henry transferred Dogmeat's brain into Rex's cranium, and by the looks of it, it seemed to be a success.

The world had suddenly gotten a bit brighter with the reunion, and once more side-by-side, the two friends strode into the desert, rushing towards Primm.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are on my profile page. I try to update them frequently. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	8. Chapter 7 Eyes

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 7 – Eyes**

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><p>Once in Primm, Brooke and Dogmeat headed for the Mojave Express, ED-E's home. Johnson Nash cracked a smile upon his weather worn face and said in his deep, cracked voice, "Hi there, youngster. Come back for your heap of wires and sparks?" Brooke smiled back. "I sure have! I went through a lot of trouble to get this little guy going. I might as well keep him."<p>

She beckoned for ED-E to follow and the machine whirred up unusually slow. Brooke eyed the robot suspiciously and turned to Nash, "Has he been this slow since I've been gone?" The older man scratched his head and sighed, "Today's the first day I've seen this happen. I usually give the contraption a once over with my cleaning rag when he comes back." The courier nodded in understanding. She thanked Nash for everything and went on her way with her two companions back towards the Lucky 38. House would most likely have something for her to do.

As they headed north, deep into the desert, ED-E began to buzz loudly as he floated more sluggishly by the second. Brooke stopped and stared at the airborne mechanism, only to watch it whir down and then land callously into the sand. "Shit!" slipped from her lips as she fell onto her knees. Dogmeat barked and sat next to her sniffing the familiar android. It was humming softly and it quickly grew into a loud drone, making Brooke and Dogmeat both whimper in pain when suddenly it stopped.

As if nothing had happened, ED-E levitated once more and hovered. Brooke walked around her companion, inspecting every inch of his metallic carcass. "ED-E, my friend?" she whispered softly when it answered back, "Brooke, can you hear me?"

She recognized the voice.

"What're you doing invading my robot, House?" the wanderer questioned vehemently. His response came simply, "I need to be able to communicate with you out in the wastes."  
>"You have no right…"<br>"But I have my reasons."  
>"What do you want?" She finally asked, recognizing any argument as futile. He paused for a moment and then bellowed, "There is a barbarian that lives somewhere in Boulder City. I want his eyes."<br>"What?"  
>"His eyes. I want his eyes."<p>

Brooke scoffed and began to protest, "Why would I steal his eyes? That's disgusting!" A long pause came from the other end and House finally started up, "They call him the Starer. He rips the eyes out of his victims head and carries them with him. But I don't want those. I want his. Put them in ice when you get them. I need them as fresh as I can get them."  
>"Justice and a cruel agenda. I'm not sure whether to like it or not."<br>"Are we done discussing this? Bring me his eyes, Brooke."  
>"Yes, sir," came Brooke's meek reply and she headed for the shattered Boulder City.<p>

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><p>The town had never been very lively, the only thing keeping it there being the NCR monument. With one lonely saloon, the Big Horn Saloon, run by a balding man named Ike, it was not exactly considered a vacation hot spot. Brooke arrived with Dogmeat and ED-E in tow, only the wind welcoming them. She headed straight for Ike's establishment, the sun almost midway to sunset. A water bottle wouldn't hurt, but what she really wanted from Ike was an idea of who this Starer was.<p>

Although the windows were crusted and weather worn on the Big Horn, she could tell the inside was dark and desolate. Hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, she opened the saloon door and walked in. No one. Everyone must have packed up when the Starer moved in.

Brooke jeered at the discovery and proceeded to the back of the tavern. She grabbed a dusty glass tumbler, rinsing it clean with one of her purified waters. A still cold galvanized bucket of ice sat upon the counter, waiting to be used. The wastelander looked at her glass, down at Dogmeat who cocked his head in wonderment, and back at the glass. She threw it at the wall, shattering it, and grabbed the bucket, wrapping it in a spare bar towel that was ratting at the corners.

She heaved it under her arm and the group walked outside when suddenly a chopping sound could be faintly heard. "Stay here," was the only words that escaped her lips as she left the ice bucket with her canine, and Dogmeat obediently sat down, ED-E silently buzzing beside him.

The chopping sound grew louder as Brooke moved farther into the ruins of the once standing Boulder City. Suddenly the hacking stopped and her breath slowed as she ducked behind a wrecked pillar. The silence was then replaced by a dragging ruckus and she began her pursuit again.

A bloody table came into the courier's view, and she stopped. The dragging stopped too, and she saw a lumbering figure heave something limp onto the table. It was a farmhand by the looks of his clothing, the missing eyes and mangled body proof he was dead. The lumbering man heavily breathed, almost gurgling on his intake of oxygen and extended a hand, running it through the locks on the dead farmhand's disheveled head.

Brooke held back a gasp when she saw his hands. His fingers were long and lean, ending in nails that had been filed into daggers. They were stained with blood and what was assumed to be the grim from torn eye sockets. This must be the Starer, and this wasn't a man to be dealt with in close combat. His hands were built to claw out eyes.

The woman began retreating slowly, when her calf hit a piece of debris and tripped her backwards onto the sharp rubble. Brooke tried her best to hold in a groan when she glanced back towards the table and did not see the Starer. Her heart began to race when she struggled to her feet. She grabbed her laser rifle off of her back and scanned her surroundings, wheeling around when a clawed hand grabbed the barrel of her rifle. "Fuck," came her reply as she stared up into the gossamer clothed gaze of her enemy.

The rifle was ripped from Brooke's hands and flung amongst the broken concrete and metal. She slowly backed away as the Starer walked towards her getting closer. His build came from muscle and physical prowess, which was only complimented by an angled jaw and Roman-esque nose. Gauze was wrapped around his eyes, now stained with sweat and blood, his eyes barely visible beneath the fabric. Dirty blonde hair grew on splotches upon his sun-beaten head, looking as if most of it had been pulled out. He wore only a pair of grimy denim overalls, a small rough-hewn sack hanging through one of the belt loops. From the looks of the round orbs bulging in the bottom, Brooke assumed they were his prizes; eyes.

But the thought never surfaced in her mind as Brooke's hands flew up in front of her, blocking the man's blow, but his nails clawed into her skin and she muffled her own scream through a clenched jaw, forcing a putrid smile onto the Starer. She was beginning to regret her choice in light armor, but then again, she never thought this would turn into a brawl from an assassination.

The Starer swung again and the vaultie ducked, but another clawed hand flew downwards and grabbed her by the neck. Brooke was held in the air like a small kitten, and she choked, her own hands clawing the rough attackers hide. To no avail, she merely pawed his forearms, and the Starer trudged back to his bloody table, flinging the other body off and slamming her into the surface.

He finally released his hold and she sucked in air until her lungs hurt. The man growled with his gurgled breaths and ran his claws through her hair, separating her curls and smoothing her mane. Brooke's hand cautiously moved down to her calf as she stared at him. He ran a nail around her eye, and removed the gauze from his gaze, staring upon her with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. Brooke was momentarily dazzled by his gawk, the Starer readying his hand to plunge into her face to rip out her green eyes with his vicious nails.

There was no way Brooke saw herself over-powering the man, and her hand groped the blade in her boot, bringing it up swiftly until the edge cleanly cut into the Starer's artery upon his neck. Blood spewed forth onto both persons, and the killers hands flew to the wound. His face became horror-stricken and he stumbled back, the iron filled liquid beginning to spill from his maw. Wiping blood from her vision, Brooke rolled off the table and shakily stood, staring down at the dying man.

Once she knew he was dead, Brooke took her knife and tried her best to cut out the delicate looking eyes that had belonged to a serial killer. She juggled the eyes as she ran back to Dogmeat and ED-E, and plunged her bloody fists into the ice bucket, releasing the eyes deep inside. "We've gotta go now, guys," she said breathily, grabbing the bucket, jogging to retrieve her laser rifle, and finally running out of the city.

She planned on trying her damndest to run all the way back to New Vegas.

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><p><strong>AN: Story statuses are on my profile page. I try to update them frequently. To everyone whose been following me, ya'll have really renewed my interest in writing this thing! Double thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 8 Like in the Movies

**Gun Powder and Maps - Chapter 8 - Like in the Movies**

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><p>Brooke was standing in the Lucky 38's elevator, her head swimming with pain and nausea. The bucket of cold ice was melting after its fifth renewal of frozen water and the courier could see the eyeballs swimming around in the glassy concoction. All she could smell was blood and death.<p>

The elevator doors swung wide and Brooke rushed to the huge screen where she often met Mr. House. "Ah, welcome back my dear girl! Had a successful trip I see," Mr. House said cheerfully as a securitron rolled out and took the bucket from Brooke's hand. She stood staring at the green screen, her legs trying to wobble from exhaustion. She hoped Raul had been able to make some decent progress on the old jaloppy she had brought to him. It would make her tavels quicker and way less tiring.

As Mr. House was beginning to start up and thank his right hand woman, Brooke slowly turned around and walked to the elevator. "Where are you going?" The speakers sounded out in the Lucky 38's owner's voice. She didn't answer, her mouth dry and her head pounding. The wastelander was in no shape to have a conversation, so she took the elevator to her presidential suite and headed for the restroom.

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><p>House had been watching the information going through his servers, showing that Brooke had gone down to the apartment he had given her. As he flicked the cameras on he first checked her bedroom. Dogmeat was lying on the floor, chewing on a Brahmin bone but no Brooke to be found. He flicked through the different rooms until he came upon the bathroom and spotted her.<p>

House's human heart began to beat faster as he watched her undress, her dirty leather armor falling to the marble floor. She unbuckled the bra around her chest, rubbing the red imprints it had left on her skin. Brooke then slowly slid her underwear to the floor, the round ass that house enjoyed staring at finally bared to him. He wanted her to turn around, so that he could see just how perfect her curves were, to see her large ample bosom, to admire his modern day Boticelli.

But he flicked the camera off. She deserved his respect. Brooke wasn't just another one of his call girls. She was a woman that he looked upon as almost his equal.

He had kept the microphones on, and heard her turning on the faucets to her bath.

Brooke stepped into the cold bath, the warm water just beginning to flood the porcelain and warm it. She adjusted the water until it was just the right temperature, and sat down on the still cool surface as the warm water rushed around her legs. She leaned her back against the back of the tub, shivering at the feeling, as if she were leaning on a glacier, but her own body warmed the spot quickly and she let out a deep breath, glad to be sitting.

The water began to rise and she lost herself in thought. The thought turned to sleepiness and she fell asleep in the tub, her mind finally able to take no more and turned off.

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><p>Brooke had awoken with a start as the water reached her neck. She slowly raised up from the back of the tub, as to not splash water out. She delicately removed the stopper, and the water slowly began circling down the drain. The faucet was still running hot, and after the water had gotten to an acceptable level, Brooke decided to put the plug back in and fill the bath some more. She grabbed a nearby bar of soap and began to run it over her body, using her hands to scrub the dirt and blood away, suds running down her tan skin into the water.<p>

She then ducked her head under the water and took a small amount of shampoo to wash her hair. She had no idea how House did it, but he was always able to find these pre-war comodities that Brooke had been so used to in her vault. It comforted her and made her feel at home. The courier ducked back under, rinsing her hair, and instead ran a conditioner through the wet strands. It made her hair feel silky, and she let it slide through her fingers, just wanting to feel its slick luxury. She sat for a moment watching the faucet drip until she had let the conditioner sit for a few minutes.

After she had rinsed off and dried herself off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and walked, bare butt, to her bedroom. She put on a soft cotton summer dress, trying to make herself comfortable. She could wash her other clothing later. For now, she just wanted to go upstairs and bury herself in House's library.

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><p>Brooke flipped through a large book on film stars that provided brief descriptions of some of the world's greatest actors and actresses since the beginning of the film industry. She loved looking at the first film actresses, looking at their gorgeous faces in the black and white photos. An empty bottle of wine stood on the table next to her favorite leather chair she was sitting in, and Brooke was working through a bottle of beer. She didn't get drunk often, but Brooke wanted to completely relax and she decided to get a roaring buzz.<p>

The vaultie struggled to keep her head from moving as she flipped through the pages. She would stop and stare at a few of the pictures before moving on to the next, devouring the book as she looked through it.

"I wish I could see the first movies made. I wish I could see them act, and hear them speak. They're so elegant and beautiful. Do you have any of their movies, House? Any of Hedy Lamarr?" Brooke asked, her voice suprisingly clear for the level of intoxication she felt. House flicked onto the nearby telescreen and replied, "Yes I do. I have all her films."

"Ziegfield Girl."

"Alright."

House lowered the projection screen that was on the opposite side of the penthouse, and the film rolled into place from his collection, the black and white colors flooding the screen. There was Judy Garland, Hedy Lamarr and Lana Turner as they promenaded across the screen, stunning in their costumes.

Brooke stared in awe at the actresses and said breathily, "I wish I could be as beautiful as them." House, knowing she was drunk, said in a slow suave voice, "You are more beautiful than them, Brooke." The courier turned from the movie to stare into the eyes shown on the nearby wall monitor. She laughed and stared at the picture adoringly. House's heart momentarily skipped as she gazed at him. "Gee, you sure do know how to flatter a girl Mr. House," came her husky reply, and House felt as if Marilyn Monroe herself was speaking to him.

He only hated that he would be sending her out for another task soon. He so much enjoyed her company.

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><p>Finally, the next installment! I'm so grateful for the love and support, and thank-you to everyone who is hanging in their with me :D<p> 


	10. Chapter 9 Old Resort

**Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 9 – Old Resort**

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><p>House had sent Brooke out to meet up with Boone in order to settle a former NCR uprising. Apparently Camp Golf was not reverting to Mojave Democratic-Republic ideas too well. No communications were going through to the camp and House wanted to know what was going on.<p>

House's old resort at Camp Golf still held a place in his heart and this quelling of passions at the site was important to him. He didn't want his house being burnt down or defiled in any way.

He could've sent his robots to do his bidding, but the old world king needed Brooke out of the way for a few days. House had his own list of tasks he needed to complete. Tasks he didn't want his vault girl to know.

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><p>Brooke and Boone passed through the Grub N' Gulp Rest Stop with no sign of anyone there. Normally Fitz and Lupe were around to "cater" to customers, but there was no sign of the two NCR loyalists. This made Brooke nervous as the wasteland made a soft howl across its sands.<p>

The companions were growing closer to Camp Golf and Brooke swallowed hard, feeling trapped inside her usually comforting power armor. Her intuition was telling her something was off, and she spoke quietly to Boone. "I'm worried that this is something completely different than an uprising." ED-E was following unusually close and Boone stared at the robot hard before replying, "I agree. My guts not rolling right either."

A deep silence slowly passed by as the sun reached higher into the sky, baking the destroyed Earth beneath it. Boone had been struggling to find the right words to express himself to the courier and finally spoke up, "I never wanted to follow along with this Mojave Republic bull shit. But it's still the NCR. I don't understand an uprising." Brooke had known Boone wasn't a fan of the MDR, but she was glad he trusted her enough to tell her himself. She sighed and said, "I don't like it either, but you're right. Every other NCR Fort and Camp smoothly converted to the new government. It makes no sense for Camp Golf to be any different."  
>"Especially amongst the rangers that live there. Rangers have a fierce loyalty."<br>"Yes. Yes they do."

The small group finally reached the camp, only to come face to face with a haunting desolation. Brooke and Boone walked cautiously amongst the rows of tents, guns at the ready, ED-E buzzing behind. The tents flapped lazily, no one inside of them, abandoned and lonely. Nothing could be seen or heard and the stench of danger permeated the air.

The doors creaked open lazily, opening up into the elaborate lobby of the old House Resort. No voices were heard from upstairs, only silence wafting down from the steps. Dust danced in the sunlight spilling in from the dirty windows, marring the beauty of the old world sanctuary. "I'll check upstairs," Boone said in his normal gruff tone, and Brooke nodded. The sniper stalked away and Brooke walked past the stairs into the west alcove.

The large room was also void of life, and the wastelander softly stepped across the marble flooring. Upon the distant wall hung a large portrait, and Brooke was drawn to it. She removed the metal helmet from her head and stared up at the picture.

It was the figure of House standing in front of a robot. Brooke's heart began to beat a little faster as she approached the portrait closer for a better look. Mr. House was so young and proud in the painting, looking dapper and handsome in his dark sports jacket and white slacks. He was so human; so different looking from what he was now.

Brooke examined the robot feet the young House stood in front of and her green eyes went wide. It was the feet of Liberty Prime! She had fought alongside the large robot in Washington D.C. in order to free the Jefferson Monument and provide the surrounding area with purified water. Liberty Prime was a mechanical feat, and Brooke had admired the craftsmanship and sheer strength that the robot held.

She lost herself to her memories, staring up blindly into the painting. Her lack of perception cost her dearly, not hearing the footsteps behind her, and her world turning black as something hard struck her on the back of the head.

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><p>Two securitrons rolled down into the Big Mountain crater, their tires leaving brief trails in the sand before the wind blew them away. The various bags of scrap metal and electronics were carried upon the robots' backs, the blue eyes that Brooke had retrieved kept cold in one of the securitron's chassis. House stared out blindly from the optical cameras on his minions and observed the eerie landscape.<p>

The gray dirt was dotted with a patchwork of what looked like tubes linking each building together, tall tanks and smoke stacks still blowing steam locked into the grid. Standing like a sore thumb right in the center was the silvery domed Think Tank, a beacon of hope and dread, a visual oxymoron in the dead crater. The night sky had fallen, and the blue searchlights that pointed towards the sky lit up the central nervous system building of the whole Big Mountain complex.

It had been a long time since Mr. House had looked upon the facility, a part of his own fortune having previously funded the experiments held within before the Great World. He could only imagine the horrors and what had become of the scientists within, but it was a horror that he was willing to discover. He had not repeatedly sent Brooke out into the wastes to do his bidding for nothing. This was where her efforts were going to come to fruition.

House urged his one wheeled contraptions down into the crater, and they bounced across the uneven flooring speeding into the tangle of metal refuse. A welcoming of robo-scorpions greeted the group with snapping pincers and laser-beam tails at the ready. With a swift launching of rockets from the securitron's shoulders, the metal beasts were eradicated, and the robots travelled further into the big empty. A few police cyber dogs tried to attack the convoy, along with the occasional lobotomite, humans who had been experimented upon, but the securitrons dealt with the threats swiftly, and rolled into the Think Tank practically unscathed.

House could hear the bickering of the scientists as he rolled into the spacious room that the smaller think tank units "lived" in. Control panels and screens lined the sides of the walls, a row of rooms on the far wall, and a large screen behind.

House appeared on one of the Securitron's screens, his ever-smiling face staring upon the huddled group of hovering screens, each with its own brain on top, floating in biogel. House coughed, trying to gain the scientists' attention. With a huge wave of silence, each hovering unit turned, and their screens with pictures of eyes intently swiveled towards Mr. House. One unit travelled up to the Lucky 38's owner, and exclaimed in a deep and somewhat loud voice, "Mr. House! What a… PLEASANT surprise!" House chuckled and said, "Dr. Klein, no need for faked happiness."  
>"Thank goodness. I do hate civilities. Those are best left to the lobotomites and their many penised hands."<p>

Mr. House tried his best to ignore the absurd comment and spoke up, "Dr. Klein, I need you and your team to create something for me. Call it a… favor that you owe me for all the money I wasted putting into your failed and absurd experiments."  
>"Our life work was not a FAILURE."<br>"They did not stop the Great War." Dr. Klein felt inclined to defend himself, to turn the volume knob on his mouth screen and shout that he had made great leaps in the field of science, but the man on the screen in front of him had more power than he liked to remember.

The other scientists had gathered around, to listen to the conversation, the Think tank administrator, Klein, quelling his anger and replying, "What project would you like for our glorious minds to perform?" The securitrons dropped their loads of material to the floor and Mr. House smiled to himself in his thoughts as he said aloud, "I need you to make me a body."

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><p><strong>House's secret has been let out of the bag! So exciting! Isn't it? Thank-you to everyone, and WELCOME to all the new followers I've gained! I'm honored by you joining to watch my story. As always, leave any thoughts, statements and comments. All story progress updates are on my profile page.<strong>


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